


Mutuality

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Dom Hux, sub Kylo [25]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: It helps them both.





	

The bit in his mouth pushes his tongue down into the bed of his mouth, making him slobber as he struggles to swallow. The metal cage spreading his lips artificially wide means his jaw aches, and the mufflers over his ears and eyes put everything at a remove. Kylo can hear, but only just. He cannot see a _thing_ , and it’s disorientating in the extreme. Not even patches of light or dark, the padded circles around his eye-sockets cutting out every last glimpse of the room, and of his Master. 

There’s no shucking off of the hood. It’s fixed down by the collar around his throat, and he’s cut off from the world by it.

Or… sort of. Everything else kicks up three speeds to compensate, and he’s aware of every flicker of air across his body. He feels the fur lining the cuffs on his wrists, and those on his ankles. He’s aware of the weight of the bars that keep his limbs spread to Hux’s exacting standards, and the press of the bed into his hand-heels and knees. 

Kylo waits, and wonders what Hux has in store. The leash hitched to his collar is tied to the bed, though the hobbling spreader bars mean he can barely move anyway. Without sight, with sound muffled, he goes deeper into his body with every passing moment. He feels the double-chambered kiss of his heart, hears the wheeze of breath through the slit for his nose. Feels the tiny bite at the corner of his mouth around the metal piece there, the ache of his lips as they’re spread. He wonders if it’s to keep him from biting down on Hux’s cock, though he never _would_. Or is it just to show how complete Hux’s control over the Knight truly is?

He breathes. And slobbers. And waits.

Fingers push into his opened mouth, and swirl around. He can’t do anything but allow it, and when the finger moves to stroke down the curve of his ass, he tenses. Spit is _not_ good lube, even if he _is_ good at taking it there. The saliva-damp finger just slides between his cheeks, never pushing inside. Kylo waits, and when it does nothing but circle his entrance and bump into his balls, he tries to turn his head and silently plead.

A smack, and his head is turned back front and centre.

 _No_.

Furious, he turns back into position and waits. He’s not patient, and he’s wound up, and he can’t _do_ anything, or even _beg_. He’s reduced to rocking his weight on his joints, begging for more touches.

 _NO_.

Kylo whines, and ducks his upper half a little, bending his elbows in supplication. He wants more, and the very light touches to his groin are nowhere near enough. The hand moves from his hole to pat lightly at his balls, and Kylo shoves his head into the bed in distress.

Why? Why won’t he let him?

Fingers slide over his shaft, and then away. Kylo is left hungry and dejected, and he won’t cry, even if he wants to.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Not a single touch.

Kylo’s mind reaches out, despite himself. Needs to, needs to feel him still there, and–

 **NO**.

He’s whacked, hard, with a bare hand. On the ass, on one cheek. It stings, and it rocks him forwards, and he’s confused. Is it punishment for his approach? His reading of Hux’s mind? It must be.

He tries again, and this time he’s slapped twice. The blows rain down heavily, and he gurgles in pain at the ringing after-shocks of it. He doesn’t go into his mind a third time, just waiting for the throbbing sensation to go. There’s nothing further, and Kylo doesn’t know if he’s supposed to try a third time, or wait.

He waits, first. Waiting can stop, breaking a wait can’t. There’s nothing more, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Horrified, he bleats out a plea for mercy, and is met with nothing.

Nothing.

Not even a pat on the head.

Kylo holds out as long as he can, but the horror wells up too fast. He can’t please him, can’t ask for what he should do, can’t understand. He’s out of all control, and it’s his life made large and real. Ever unacceptable, ever unwanted. Ever unable to understand, and ever unable to please. 

Dejected, he claws at the sheets and nods. It’s all he can do to signal his surrender, his knowledge that this - all of this - is out of his control. And that he - as _ever_ \- is a disappointment, a failure. He is all those things, and he’s too hurt to even cry.

The next slap comes harder still, rocking him on his knees. He deserves it, though, and so he does not object. The blows fall like water from a shower, and his body burns hot with the sting of them. Over and over, until the pain is gone. That strange place after it, when his survival instinct has kicked in. Pain is gone, and only existing remains.

There is no fight, no flight, no flinch, freeze, or fornicate. He is unable to make any choices for himself, and that… is… good? 

Left to his own devices, he fucks everything up. But now, here, he has it all taken out of his hands. He _can_ fuck up, but Hux will make it okay. The realisation of that safety, that freedom… it hits like another spank to the ass, and Kylo gently flares out with the Force. He can’t talk, so he makes everything rattle for just a moment… and then still. 

His breathing evens, and he knows he’s two steps away from euphoria. 

 _Good boy_.

He hears the words, though he’s not sure if it’s his ears, or the Force. Either way, the praise makes him flush with pride, and he turns his head towards him, slobbery and hopeful. Grateful. Loving. He tries to project all of these feelings without using the Force, and he mumbles a response around the gag.

Calm slowly seeps in, and he almost doesn’t want the finger that - lubed now - strokes his hole. It’s almost a blasphemy for Hux to prepare him, but he knows he owes his Master so much. The fingers ease his already-lax body wider, and it’s with great satisfaction that he feels him slide home. 

Deep in. Deep in. Into the drum-beat gut. Into the aching parts, and Kylo tightens around him. 

 _Don’t come. Don’t come until I tell you to_.

Kylo nods, and then he understands. 

Hux moves like a man possessed, and their bodies fight to remain upright under the harsh fucking. Hux takes him in anger, as much as love. Or are they both the same? Rage and fury and a violence that Kylo understands so well. A Darkness Hux fights to control, spending itself in his frame. The Knight accepts the roughness, the hatred in the fingers on his hips.

It isn’t hate _of_ him. It isn’t even hate of _them_ , together. It’s just loathing and distress and fear and all those bad things inside of Hux. All those things Kylo knows, because he feels them in himself. He reaches into Hux’s mind, and pulls the dark thoughts away. Pulls them into himself, even as his ass is ploughed to raw and tender steak. 

Kylo wants to help him, even now. Always. He wants to take the raging voices out of him, and give him a measure of peace he’s given him, using every last bit of himself to do it.

A hand, around his waist. A fist that tugs him to ecstasy, but he’s been told to wait. When he comes, maybe he can expel the bad for both of them. Maybe he can come away their hurt. Kylo takes the thrusts that spear him open, and the fist that punishes his dick for loving him. He takes it all, though his mind is going hazy and muggy under all the harsh adoration. Takes it, and slides across Hux’s mind with one last-ditch effort to put the sensation of _peace_ into him.

**FUCK. FUCK. COME. FUCK. YES.**

The command arrives as the feeling snaps in Hux, and Kylo is only too happy to oblige. He spurts like mad over the sheets, his arms and legs shaking with the harshness of their mating-dance. Over and over, nearly choking, and he feels Hux’s release spread him out inside. Feels some of the pain easing from his beloved, and he smiles. Smiles, and falls when Hux pushes him down. His arms slide above him, his chin hitting the bed. A gurgle, and he gives in.

It’s a long time before the mask is removed. A long time of just lying there, pinned down by the weight of their love. Kylo’s eyes stay shut to the room, and he smiles as his mouth is liberated.

He does try to talk, but it’s drifting, distant sounds. A spit-wet smile offered, and kisses to his nape in return. He did a good job. He did. He didn’t fuck it up this time. It’s alright. He feels the ease in Hux, and he knows this helps him, too.

He loves him so much. So very, very, very much.

They sleep, knotted together. The Darkness is only there in the shadows cast by the room’s warm light.


End file.
